


In Which Getting Steve High is the Best Cure for Boredom

by AthynaDaughterofPoseidon



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Everyone gets high, It's all Nat's fault, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3325508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthynaDaughterofPoseidon/pseuds/AthynaDaughterofPoseidon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha Romanov is bored. Clint Barton is bored. The obvious cure is to get Steve high.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Getting Steve High is the Best Cure for Boredom

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer I have little to no clue how drugs work so bear with me.

            Natasha gets the idea halfway through the day on her third week without assignment. It turns out even she is not allowed to go an entire year without taking vacation time, and the year is almost out so she’s being forced to take it all at once. Her only salvation comes in the fact that Clint has also neglected to take any vacation time and Steve is not currently needed for anything. Also, being on vacation does not mean she necessarily has to be away from the Hub. Which means she passed the first week and a half terrifying the new recruits while Clint hid in various vents and rafter spying on people and shooting fart arrows into the cafeteria. Then Fury yelled at them both and Hill had sent her home with an eye role.

            So she shuts off the TV — she’s seen this episode of Warehouse 13 more times than she cares to admit — and calls Clint. “Yo, Clint, you still got that contact that hooked you up with a Cartel undercover disguise?” Clint makes a noise to the affirmative, and Natasha grins. “I need you to get me drugs. Weed specifically. We,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “are gonna get Steve high.” Clint laughs for a good three minutes at the mere suggestion of it, and reassures her that he’ll have the drugs by tomorrow. Natasha turns the TV back on, because really, this episode is truly a masterpiece.

            Nat takes care of getting Steve over to her apartment. It’s easy really — they’ve gotten closer since New York, and she tells him Clint and she had an idea for a super fun experiment. When Clint shows up and pulls a bag of dried green stuff, Steve stands up. “Oh no, I know what that stuff is! That stuff is illegal!” Steve looks so serious, that Natasha bursts out laughing.

            “Relax, Steve. It’s just weed. Plus, with the fact that you can’t get drunk, it’s likely that nothing will even happen.”

            Steve looks at her long and hard, before sighing. “Fine. How do you even…?”

            “I’ve got it!” Clint declares, breezing into the apartment and pulling a sheaf of joint wrappers out of his pocket. He shakes some of the weed into a line on the paper, and rolls it up, licking at the edge and sealing it. He hands it to Steve, and Natasha produces a lighter from a kitchen drawer. Steve balances the joint precariously between his lips and lights the end. He inhales too hard on the first puff, and sends the joint flying across the room when he coughs. Nat stomps the tip out and Clint booms out a laugh.

            “Lets try that again why don’t we?” Nat suggests, and Clint rolls another joint. This time Steve is more cautious, and he finishes the whole thing without incident.

            “Anything?” Nat asks.

            Steve stares at her for a moment, and a grin breaks out on his face. “You’re really pretty, you know that? Like I know people are always saying the Black Widow is hot, but you’re like really pretty.” He turns to Clint. “And you! You’re so funny. Like when you shot that bubble arrow into the training room and Hill made those recruits train on soap covered mats. That was so funny.” Steve bursts into laughter and slumps down onto the couch. Nat and Clint look at each other, and burst out laughing.

            “I guess it works,” Natasha says. Clint looks at her with mischief in his eyes.

            “We gotta get the others over here!” he exclaims.

            Steve pops up and looks at them over the top of the couch. “Wait, what? Guys I don’t think that’s such a great idea.” The look he gives them is entirely clear, and Clint’s eyes widen.

            “Dude, that’s the shortest high I have ever seen.”

            “Wow. Okay, yeah the others totally have to see this.” Natasha pulls her phone out of her pocket and before Steve can protest she’s calling Tony on the phone. “Tony. Yeah, it’s Romanoff. You have to get the rest of the team to your place. Clint and I are getting Steve high. We’ll be there in a few. Oh, and don’t tell Hill. I kinda doubt she’d approve.” She hangs up and turns to Steve. “Alright Uncle Steve let’s go.” She grabs Steve by the arm and tugs him out the door, Clint following behind.

 

 

            “Ok, so what’s this emergency?” Bruce asks when Natasha, Clint, and Steve bundle through the door, shaking snow off their shoulders.

            “Oh, there’s no actual emergency,” Tony remarks, kicking his feet up onto a coffee table. “It was just the only way I could think of to pull you away from your lab. We’re getting Steve high.”

            “Hmmmm… Right. So, just to be clear, there is nothing ‘exploding all over the place ahh oh god Bruce quick help,’” Bruce reaffirms, voice deadpanned and unamused.

            “Nope.”

            Bruce rolls his eyes, but plops down on one of the armchairs. “Now hold on!” Steve exclaims. “I’m not just gonna sit here and get high for all of your guys’ amusement!”

            “Then we shall all partake in this act of height!” Thor exclaims, slamming his fist against the table.

            Tony and Bruce shrug in agreement, and Clint quickly produces the plastic baggie and wrappers from his pocket. He rolls a joint for each of the guys, and then turns to Natasha. “Nat?” She shrugs and takes the wrappers and bag from him, deftly rolling one for herself. She flicks on her lighter and holds it to her own joint, dangling loosely from her mouth in a way that is entirely more practiced than Steve, before passing it to the others.   

            After about fifteen minutes, they’re all sprawled out across various couches and armchairs. “You’re like, really pretty Nat. I know, I know I said that already, but you’re just sooo pretty. And smart too! I didn’t mention that before. And you could totally kick anyone’s ass and that’s so cool. You’re like my best friend! And Thor, you’re so strong, but, like, so gentle too. I really love that about you. Bruce you are literally the nicest person I know, you know? And Clint, you’re so nice and your hair is so soft. Like you gotta tell me what shampoo you use. An Tony…” he pauses a moment, turning to wear Stark is sitting, “you’re in my seat, fucking move.” He gives the other man a shove on the arm, and Clint bursts into laughter. Natasha points her phone at Stark, who is now sprawled across the floor.

            She’s been recording the whole thing for later amusement. The distant part of her brain, the part that still remembers dark rooms and starvation, knows that this wouldn’t be terrible blackmail. The thought catches in her throat because these are her friends. Right? Clint is. And she thinks Steve is too. But the others. Saving the world and eating schwarma with someone doesn’t mean they won’t turn on you one day. Or you on them. But no, this is something they’re doing in the presence of her, not some disguise she’s constructed to make them trust her. They have given her their trust of their own volition with no pretense involved, or at least as little as Natasha knows how to present, and so she promises herself that this video will be used only for personal entertainment. And possibly some light teasing.

            Bruce is by far the least affected of them all, sitting and doodling idly on a piece of paper. Thor and Steve had raided the cabinets and were now systematically devouring Twinkies and Doritos. Tony grabs a chip from the bag, and places it up on a piece of paper on the table. He doodles a head and some arms and legs. “Clint, Clint, look! It’s Steve!” Clint topples over with laughter.

            “Stark!” Thor smashes his fist on the table. “We require more sustenance!”

            “There’s a 7-11 down the block.”

            Steve jumps to his feet and overbalances slightly before regaining his footing and making his way determinedly towards the door. Natasha barks out a laugh that has the others staring at her. “What, I laugh. Sometimes.”

            “I like this plant!” Thor declares, clapping his hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “It makes the Warrior Woman one jovial.”

            Everyone tenses for a moment, and then Nat smiles and says, “Let’s go get your snacks Boy Thunder.”

            “Did you just… make a Batman reference?” Bruce looks stunned.

            “No.” Nat turns and stalk out after Steve, and the others follow, Bruce’s mouth still slightly agape.

            The cashier looks like he might explode from sheer exposure when they all walk up to him. Thor and Steve make a beeline for the chips, and Tony immediately snatches up every Hostess product in sight. Clint is drawn to the cashews and Natasha grabs a bag of beef jerky absentmindedly. Bruce manages to prevent Steve and Thor from destroying the snack isle, and he pays for the whole lot. He tips generously, because the cashier looks truly undone. Natasha will have to ask him about his income source later, though she suspects it’s from Tony, whether the billionaire knows it or not.

            Bruce manages to herd them all back to the tower, by which point Steve is sobering up, but the rest of them are still pretty trashed.

 

            Nat wakes up the next morning stretched across a couch and covered with what appears to be a hand-knit afghan. Tony is lying on the floor and Thor is curled up on an armchair. Clint is nowhere to be found, until she looks up and finds him perched in the rafters, eyes shut. Bruce walks in carrying coffee, and when he notices her, hands her a mug. “Steve is in the kitchen making eggs if you want.”

            Natasha nods and follows him into the kitchen, where sure enough Steve is cooking eggs. “Morning Nat. Eggs?” She nods and he smiles. “Scrambled?”

            “Sunny side up please if possible.”

            “Bacon?” Another nod.

            Bruce pulls out a chair for her at the table, and she sits amicably. “Ok, so how did you do it?”

            “Do what?” He looks to her innocently.

            “I may have been high last night, but I wasn’t blind. You were way less high than the rest of us.”

            “Oh that. Yeah, well back before I got the whole anger thing under control, marijuana was a good way to subdue it. I guess I never quite lost the tolerance.”

            “It was a major help last night when you all passed out,” Steve piped up, bringing over several plates of eggs and bacon.

            “Thanks for the afghan by the way. You let Clint sleep on the rafters?”

            “We tried to get him down when he almost fell off around nine, but he didn’t hear. I’m pretty sure he took out his hearing aides at some point,” Steve answered.

            “He does that sometimes." Natasha replied.

            "They're uncomfortable, so sue me." Clint waltzed into the room.

 

            "I usually just throw things at him until he comes down.”

            “It really sucks when she does that,” Clint said, a little too loudly and off-key.

            _Well if you payed attention when I tried to sign at you, I wouldn’t have to throw things_ , Nat signed. He rolled his eyes and stuffed his hearing aides back in. He then proceeded to steal a piece of her bacon and run off into the depths of Stark Tower, the Black Widow hot on his heels.


End file.
